


How To Inadvertantly Fake Your Own Death

by vivaciousBarkbeast



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Dysfunctional Relationships, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Instability, Murder, Trans Male J.D.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-01-23 22:50:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21327976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivaciousBarkbeast/pseuds/vivaciousBarkbeast
Summary: Who knew falling in love would bring an innocent, naive girl down with him?| JD is two sides of the same coin. He is an extremely depressed teenager with psychosis. His pent up anger begins to manifest into a completely different version of himself following Heather Chandler's death. |
Relationships: Jason "J. D." Dean/Veronica Sawyer
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	1. Here We Go Again

After having metaphorically (but progressively wishing more over time that it would become a literal process) plowed through ten high schools, however the fuck many ‘new starts’ and far too many hardships that _ surely _ would have killed off any other teen, which he wished that would have happened to him as well, Jason Dean (J.D.) was dragged into Sherwood Ohio. Luckily, or not, his father moved within walking distance of Westerburg High, the new high school that he would be attending; meaning that he would not have to deal with his father’s fucked up banter as much. As per usual anymore, J.D. didn’t plan to make himself familiar with anyone at this school; he would much prefer not making his presence known. At all. Ever. Any time he did, he would either be stripped away from them because of his father’s destructive impulses or he would end up hurting them… He never said goodbye. 

There were times when J.D. wished that his father would just leave without him for once. He had the basic skills that could keep him alive like cooking and paying taxes and the rent. Of course, he’d thought of running away, he’d done it multiple times as a kid though the aftermath was never desirable. The first time he tried to leave, he swore he would find her, his mother. If the explosion was real, why wasn’t his father crying? Why would his father let it happen? Why did his father let him come so close to see what was left of her? Why did she leave him alone? He could still hear the explosions, see the blood. He could still feel the pain, the burns, the fear- He wiped hot tears from his burning cheeks with the back of his scarred hand and suddenly, going to school never felt like such a tantalizing option. J.D. slipped his trenchcoat on, making sure the sleeves covered the hellish combination of scars and fresh cuts, both deep and shallow on his arms and wrists, though he already knew that they would. Gazing blankly in the mirror, he turned, looking at himself from different angles to ensure the bandages were enough to hide his chest. With a sigh, he finally muttered to himself, “Here’s to another lousy six weeks”, grabbed a book that he’d already read multiple times already and thought to himself, _ Well, it’s something to make this day go by faster _ and finally descended the steps, his boots clunking heavily. 

As soon as J.D. reached the bottom of the stairs, his father wasted no time before grabbing him and giving him a rough noogie. 

“Jeez, dad! Why haven’t you wished me luck on my first day of senior year?” His father imitated J.D. with an irritatingly feminine and high pitched voice. 

“Because frankly, _ son _, I don’t give a shit.” J.D. replied coolly, rolled his eyes and attempted to leave the house until he saw the face that his father was making. Immediately, he was brought back to his early life. Back to the blood, sweat and tears he shed. The endless training and fighting in the extremes. When his father threw a punch, J.D. responded as programmed. Almost mechanically so, J.D. deflected the punch with a parry of his left arm and a jab with his right, hitting him square in the jaw. J.D. took a step back, preparing for a second impact that would never come. He saw a muscle in the man’s jaw twitch until a crooked smile formed, bearing his further crooked teeth. Dodging another headlock and potential noogie, J.D. slid out of the house door. 

The walk of absolute certain uncertainty into a new school was usually the worst part, aside from being exposed to J.D.’s fellow teenagers and losing brain cells as a result. With an anxious hand, he yanked open one of the double doors and traipsed inside the building. As he walked, his trenchcoat seemed to float aimlessly behind him, without a care in the world. Westerburg High already seemed to be another typical high school. He could already spot all the different cliques; the Jocks, the Geeks, the Posers, and the Freaks; they were all scattered around the cluttered hallway, conversing amongst themselves and occasionally sneaking dirty looks at students in the other cliques. Typical. Rolling his eyes, J.D. began the search for an area that he could be _ alone _ . Luckily, there were no students standing by the nearest stairwell so he quickly decided that that was where he would stay. He strolled over to the stairwell and slid down the wall and took a seat, letting his left leg slide out onto the floor secretly hoping that he could trip someone and kept his right leg close to his chest. He lazily opened the book he swiped from his room and began rereading one of the last books his mother had gifted him, _ Carrie _ by Stephen King. Sometimes it felt like his mother understood him better than he ever could himself, especially with the books she chose for him.

His brown eyes slipped quickly over the words as he let himself get lost in them again. The insufferable ramblings of his fellow students eventually fell into a murmur as J.D. got absorbed into the novel. In his periphery, he made out a student coming his way. As if life was in his favor for once, he watched them trip over his outstretched foot and saw the meaningless glare he was given. Not bothering to look over his book at the person, he simply muttered, “Have a nice trip. See you next fall” with a smirk then returned to his book to turn a page almost innocently. He saw the student stalk away and allowed himself a soft chuckle. As much as he disliked stooping to his peers’ level, he couldn’t help but revel in the fact that it wasn’t he who was getting picked on for once. Every once in a while, he flickered his eyes up to the other students, examining them. The Jocks humiliating the Geeks, the Posers jeering at the Freaks, even Geeks attacking the Freaks and vice versa. Compared to what these people were doing to each other, what he did was nothing. It was a shame that even High School had a hierarchy, just like the society outside of there. Crude. Demeaning. _ Unjust _. Then, J.D. noticed something. One of the cliques was missing. Where were the- 

As if on cue, another set of double doors opened wide and a girl with curly blonde hair strode out, wearing the most obnoxious shade of yellow J.D. had ever seen. Or perhaps it was obnoxious simply because her aura was obnoxious enough alone. With yellow flats and a long sleeved plaid and yellow shirt and skirt, he felt blinded. Then, of course, a second girl with straight black hair walked out in green this time, not as obnoxious, he supposed but God did she look plain. Even with a long sleeved green shirt like the other girl’s, a black skirt, and a surprisingly large chest, she definitely didn’t stand out much. J.D., assuming that those were the only two girls he would have to worry about, glanced back down to his book for a second before a third girl walked out and unfortunately caught his attention. A third and, thankfully final, girl with long, curled, brown hair showed herself. She wore a red, long sleeved buttoned shirt and a plaid skirt. She walked in front of the other two girls and blew a kiss to the crowd around her and it took no longer than that for J.D. to deduce that she was the leader. His eyes drifted around the crowd and for some reason he was drawn to a girl, wearing an awful lot of scarves in the crowd who seemed to be in awe of the three girls. She enthusiastically chattered to her friend, who was a bit on the heavier side, wearing a pink unicorn sweatshirt and pigtails. She was probably just another student, like all the rest and bearing no relevance to J.D whatsoever. Unenthused, he changed his mind about paying attention to anything going on in the present and resumed reading. This definitely would not be the first time that he found a book _ far _ more interesting than the world around him. 

The only thing that could get his attention now was if people started singing like complete maniacs which, God knows, that would never happen. He turned another page, feeling the paper brush against his fingertips gently, almost sensually. He remembered his mother's gentle touch. He heard her speaking to him again. Did she have to leave this planet because she was too good for it or because the world was too horrible to let her stay..? He tightened his grip around the book and he saw his father's throat in its place. He watched the blood begin to spatter around him, threatening to engulf him, to drown him. He knew he had to swim, he knew he could but it had always felt easier to just let himself sink. It felt easier to let the smoke constrict his lungs. Easier to die. So… Why _ hadn’t _ he? He slammed his book shut, feeling a chill rush up his spine, reminding him that he was still alive. “How unfortunate,” He muttered to himself. 

J.D. blankly watched his peers once again with a sense of annoyance. How long were these people going to wander the halls? When were these god forsaken classes going to start? Jesus. For almost a second, he considered asking a student this exact question but he quickly thought otherwise when his throat began to close up just at the notion. He brushed his seemingly unkempt hair out of his eyes and glanced around the main hallway. As much as he hated asking for help with such trivial things, much less at all these days, J.D. had a feeling that he would stick out like a sore thumb and that was one of the last things he needed to deal with at the moment. Swallowing his pride, he slowly stood up, tucked his book under his arm and made his way to what appeared to be the main office of the school. With a slight hesitancy, he opened the door and entered the room, watching the door softly close behind him, ensuring that it was too late to escape now. He walked to the desk with a purpose in mind: get his schedule, possibly a map of the building as well and leave as soon as possible with no other questions asked. 

The woman behind the desk was organizing papers and didn’t seem to notice his presence at all. Rolling his eyes, he looked for a nametag or something to identify the woman and spotted a plaque on the desk. _ Pauline Fleming. _ He supposed he could work with that. He cleared his throat. 

“Pardon me, Mrs. Fleming but would I be able to get my schedule and maybe a directory of the school?”

The woman looked up with a creepily infectious smile that made him want to leave and never come back. Ever. “And your name is?” 

“Jessica Dean.” He replied, resigned. It almost pained him to say that. _ Almost. _

Mrs. Fleming noisily rummaged through piles of files and, having a feeling this would take a while, J.D. crossed his arms, not particularly out of attitude or spite but because it was a natural stance for him. He let his eyes wander the room, though he already knew that there was no point to it. The only difference between this school and the last one is the layout of the campus. He did notice that there wasn’t any chipped paint or vermin that he noticed yet which was _ normal _, he guessed though a bit disappointing. 

Finally, she was able to locate his file and put it through a copy machine and he realized, now, that he would have to deal yet again with people pointing at and questioning him. He felt the ever recurring pit in his stomach resurface and hesitantly took the paper from the woman, faked a polite smile, for whatever reason then left without another word. Holding the paper at his side, he made to walk back to the main hallway until he heard the bell ring and students began to leave the halls. For a split second, he intended to go up to the scarfed girl and maybe _ talk _ to her but the intention was immediately crushed when the girl went into the bathroom, closely following the preppy girls. 

Yeah. No. Nevermind. Absolutely not. 

J.D. turned on his heel and headed towards the... (He looked down at his schedule) _ history _ wing. No matter what, he had a feeling that he would be late to class. In doing so, he would need to enter the room when it was completely full, all eyes on him. Then he would need to monotonously introduce himself and tell complete strangers some bullshit fun fact about himself, take a seat and pretend to care per usual. Yet again, he felt the urge to stop in his tracks and walk right back into his bed and never wake up again. But God, if he existed, knew that his father would have his son die first than get questioned by the Ohio police and so did J.D.

Dragging himself back into the halls after class was probably the worst part of actually _ going _ to school. If he could, he would rather sit in the back of the classroom, pretending as if he were invisible rather than talk to anyone ever again. Despite his wishes, he moved, as taught, along with the other students in the classroom. As he returned to the halls, he noticed that there was apparently _ another _ reason for all the students in the school to crowd around those fucking girls. _ I swear to God, these people are the worst I’ve ever seen _ , he thought to himself. _ They’re flocking around those chicks like they’re all Jesus. _ The only thing remarkable about the girls was that… He saw an additional girl wearing _ blue. _ J.D. pursed his lips and leaned against a wall, observing her. Funny. She looked a lot like that scarf girl- _ oh my God it _ ** _is_ ** _ the scarf girl. _ He couldn’t help but gawk at her. Maybe there _ is _ some personality to her, he thought smirking. After a few minutes of gawking at the new prep of the school, the crowd seemed to disperse a bit and he could finally observe. What does this girl think she’s getting herself into? His eyes wandered to her little friend who almost seemed to deflate when she saw that girl’s ‘transformation’. She was already pretty. He didn’t see why she felt the need to change- no, NO. He decided he was going to stop that right now. He couldn’t let himself get attached again. It won’t happen, he promised himself. 

Okay, he thought, that’s fair but why hasn’t he stopped staring at her?- He was staring at her, Jesus Christ. Attempting to take it back, he forced himself to stare at the floor instead. However, this, proving futile only seemed to draw the girl’s attention even more and caused her to _ walk towards J.D. _ Pretending he didn’t notice or care, he flipped _ Carrie _ open up to a random page and blocked the girl from his sight. 

“Hey.” He heard a voice say. He refused to move the book, becoming more enthralled in the plot that he had already memorized by the second. The words were suddenly shoved out of view and replaced by the girl who was now in very close proximity to his face. “Hello?” 

“Greetings and salutations,” He muttered a bit hoarse. 

“Couldn’t help but notice you were staring at me.” She said with a smirk. 

“Weren’t we all?” J.D. gestured grandly to the hall of students and the girl raised an eyebrow. “You’re one of them now. They’ve got no choice but to worship you.” 

The girl blew her bangs out of her face. “I’m _ definitely _ not one of the Heathers.” 

“What _ are _ you then?” 

“I’m a Veronica,” She said, clutching her books close to her chest and J.D. could have sworn he detected a faint blush on her cheeks.

“And you are?” _ Veronica _ batted her eyelashes at him, clearly expecting a formal introduction which he wasn’t intending to give. 

“Those who seek names are often disappointed, Veronica.” J.D.’s lips tingled just saying the name. “Now I’ll thank you kindly to release my book and return to your new ‘friends’.” 

He waited for her to retaliate and say that they weren’t her friends either but instead he’s greeted by two football jocks pushing her aside and lifting him off his feet, dropping his book onto the floor, it landing on a page thus folding it. _ God damn it. _

“Hey newbie, what’d your boyfriend say when you were moving to Sherwood, Ohio?” His breath reeks. “Hey Kurt, you think the new kid knows about the no _ fags _ allowed rule?”

“Sure seems to have an open policy for assholes though.” J.D. says monotonously without missing a single beat, having experienced this kind of bullshit before. As expected, the jocks are pissed and one, he guesses the one named Kurt says, “Hold his arms.” 

In a split second, J.D. uppercuts Kurt, Kurt letting go of J.D. as he’s knocked back and J.D. seizes the opportunity of freedom to pick up his book and whack the other jock in the face. Unfortunately, yet also expectedly, this draws the attention of the crowd who was once focusing on the populars. The muttering grows louder as what feels like the entire school watches Kurt and Ram try to regain their footing. The guy called Kurt cracks his knuckles and throws a punch at J.D., who easily avoids it and catches the fist in turn, seeing a flash of his father’s face. Confused, for some dumbass reason, Kurt attempts to throw his other fist at him. J.D. blocks his punch yet again, getting the time to smirk at the guy before throwing it back and instead grabbing his head. He sees the guy wince since he knows what’s coming next. Perhaps he’s smarter than J.D. gave him credit for. Either way, he bangs his head against the jock’s head repeatedly until he lets him go and the two jocks trip and fall over each other. And then silence. J.D. reaches into his trench coat pocket, hardly phased and pulls out a cigarette and a lighter and heads for the nearest exit. He would hate to give someone an asthma attack now. He lights the cigarette and he thinks he sees Veronica walking towards him again. He gives her a passing glance and a wink and walks out of the building, letting a puff of smoke out of the corner of his mouth. 


	2. Feels Like Home, If Home Were Good

After meeting Veronica, J.D. almost felt like he had a reason to go to school, other than being orphaned once his father couldn’t take any more of his shit. Before he knew it, a few weeks had gone by and he was still a student at Westerburg. He started seeing more and more posters around the school about Homecoming. Being trapped in a room with the peers he wanted nothing to do with and most of them more than likely feeling the same.. The idea made him cringe. No matter. The bell rang for class but the voices in his head were far too loud to be able to sit in a classroom and not have a whole ass panic attack from sensory overload. No, he’d much rather acquaint himself with the books in the library. They don’t speak, don’t hide things, don’t mock him, don’t spit in his eye. No, he could sit with them in silence for hours, no obligations or anything. J.D. glanced at the school directory and traipsed down to the library. He opened one of the double doors and was relieved to see no other students there. Unfortunately, he realized he had to interact with one of the librarians there. “Greetings and salutations. Could you point me to the sci-fi section?” J.D. asked, making eye contact with the desk then looked up. The librarian with half-closed eyes and chewing gum despite the ‘rule’ of no food nor drink in the library being posted on every possible surface points to the far left. “Mm.” He muttered then turned around and headed for the shelves. 

J.D. started looking through the books, taking his time in this escapade. After all, he had all day. He picked up an interesting looking book every once in a while, skimming the spines with his fingertips. He’d read the backs and either be completely deterred or even more intrigued and hold the book. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the girl that Veronica called Martha in the fantasy section. He didnt take her as the type to skip class. 

“Ditching class, are we?” 

The girl startled. “Ah, well… not exactly?”

J.D. smirked. “A library is a sanctuary for you as well? Any fan of books is… Well, tolerable at least. I wouldnt dare squeal.”

Martha smiled a little bit, fiddling with her ponytail. “I wasnt super worried about that. You dont come to class a lot.”

“As long as I'm here..” J.D. lifted his arms and did a slow spin, gesturing to Westerburg. “Nothing to worry about. Ive had my fair share of the high school curriculum.”

“Then why not just get your GED? Why waste your time being around the Heathers? I wouldnt if I could.”

“Isnt your best friend one of them?”

Martha’s smile falters. “Well… I’m gonna go to class.”

“Mm. Good luck with that mess.”

Martha politely waves to him and walks away. J.D. knew full well that Martha did not actually leave the library, she simply wanted to stop talking to him but left in a polite manner. He clicks his tongue then continues to search through the books. 

Eventually, with a couple books in hand J.D. walked over to the librarian. Not completely sure of the school’s policy in taking out books he grabbed only two. He placed them down on the desk and the librarian looked him up and down. 

“Shouldn't you be in class, hon?”

“I suppose. But I enjoy the company of books more.”

“Fair enough. Checkin out?”

“Yup.” 

“ID?” 

J.D. takes his bag off of his back then drops to his knees on the floor to search through his bag. He could feel her staring at him. Calm down. He finally took it out and handed it to the lady. She wrote down the number onto a form and took out a stamp.

“Just so ya know, you can only check out one book at a time.” 

“Ah. Apologies. I’ll-“

“No worries. Take ‘em both. Consider it a warm welcome from me. I appreciate you talkin to Martha. Shes been awful lonely lately.”

“Eh, its nothin’. I know the feeling. She has Veronica though..” Hmm… 

J.D. walked away, shaking a little bit. Social interaction? Not his favorite! Books however…

He flumped down into one of the comfortable looking chairs and cracked open one of the books. 

Around eight hours later, J.D. shut the book he was half way through and stretched. Luckily the same woman that was there this morning is still there so he would still feel at least a little comfortable talking to her. 

“I meant to ask earlier, what is the policy here?”

“Longest you can keep a book is a month but I take it you'll be here much sooner than that.”

“Yeah, most likely. Thanks.”

“Have a good weekend, kid.”

Rrghhhh pleasantries.. “You too, thank you ma'am.”

J.D. picked up his books and slid them in the bag. Oh right, he’d forgotten to eat again. He checked his wallet, surveying how much money he had. Despite the many hours he’d spent distracting his brain, he still felt heavy. Well, time for the normal place. The only thing remarkable he noticed in this town was the 7/11. He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way out of the school and to his sanctuary.

The familiar chime rang and though it’s in a far different state, this store was always J.D.’s safe haven. For most, he was sure that his peers’ safe haven would be their homes. Having Big Bud Dean as his father ensured no sense of safety whatsoever. If he could, he would stay as far away from his house as frequently as possible. But after his mother’s death his father makes sure he stays home or else get the cops on his ass. In fact, he was almost 100% sure he already had window locks and alarms installed throughout the house. What a fucking drag. 

J.D. ran his hands through his hair and let out a long exhale. He made to grab a large cup for a slurpee then heard the pleasant little chime again. He turned to face the sound and saw Veronica, feeling a smile grow on his face. She knelt down on the floor, looking through the snacks. She slowly stood, probably feeling him looking at her. Shit. Look away. He locked eyes with her and she smiled, blushed- _ Fuck, she’s smiling at me.. And it doesn’t feel awful? _

Veronica tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and walked over to him. 

“Well! Fancy seeing you here, J.D. Thought you were too cool for school today.”

He twiddled the cup in his fingers. “Not exactly. Come here often?”

“Is that some sort of pickup line?”

“It was simply an honest question. Unless.. It picked you up?”

“Hmmm… perhaps. But, no, not really. Do you?”

“Is that so? Cherry or Blue Raspberry?” 

“Big gulp.”

“I believe the options are red or blue?”

“And I believe you didnt answer my question.” 

J.D. pursed his lips. “I think blue. Blue seems to be your color.”

Veronica puts her hand on her hip when he took a long sip. Brain Freeze sets in again and he winced, moving his hand to his temple and closing his eyes, awaiting relief. J.D. heard shuffling and opened one eye, seeing Veronica looking concerned. 

“And the burdens are gone.” He muttered to himself. 

“Burdens..?”

“Tell ya the truth Veronica, I am almost positive I constantly have slurpee running through my veins rather than blood. Ironic that the only drug that helps is not even a drug at all. It’s a feeling… Brain Freeze.”

“So pure high fructose corn syrup helps _ how _? Does your mom know you probably have diabetes?”

“My mom..” J.D. took another drawn out sip and grit his teeth. He hopped up onto a counter and pat the spot next to him. Veronica looked at him for a second then hopped up as well then fixed her skirt. “I wouldn’t know that one.”

Veronica looked at him, perplexed. J.D. had planned on leaving the conversation at that but looking in her eyes, he felt a chill down his spine. Curiosity.. Concern?? No, Veronica, don’t do this.. 

“I dont remember much before she died but this place soon became my home away from home. Living with a man who blows up buildings for a living isn’t the ideal environment.”

“Blows up buildings?”

“Yup. You know the name Big Bud Dean? ‘Got somethin’ in your way? Ill make your day!’” He did the best obnoxious impression he could of his father without throwing up.

Veronica’s eyes lit up, recognizing the tag line. “And then he blows up the text on the screen while some crazy rock solo plays?” She laughs for a second and it is incredibly cute. Once she collects herself she clears her throat. “That’s your dad?”

“Unfortunately. Believe it or not, he has quite the temper. His demolition aspirations often got us in trouble so we ended up moving, a lot. I was always the kid that never fit in. So, I think I can understand your position here quite well. In fact, I can tell you’re like me. You ache for change. You wish something to be different, yes?”

“Well, yeah! But doesnt everyone?”

“Not the ones with the power. They dont care for the weak. They prey on them. Feed on them. They feel… No regret.” 

J.D. clenched his fists, looking down at the floor and feeling himself start to shake again.

Oh God, J.D. can feel the darkness fading in from the corners of the room, smoke threatening to consume him, drown him, suffocate him. He sees himself crying, kneeling in the embers. The flames engulf him and he feels the fresh burns on his skin, fresh guilt, fresh anger, fresh… tears.

Veronica hugged him tightly. His eyes widened and he lifted a shaking hand. 

“I’m sorry… I dont know what your mind is saying but.. Youre safe here.. You can trust me!”

At her soothing kindness, the voices began to fade. The hallucinations stayed but… He didnt mind them. She’s right… He _ can _ trust her. He realized his head was on her shoulder. He looked up at her and they locked eyes again and he found he could barely breathe seeing she was doing so through parted lips. Her face was flushed and he felt magnetized to her… attracted to her. Before he can try to think rationally, distance himself and forget this ever happened, he kissed her. 

They kissed for a few wonderful moments, he felt tingly, like he was maybe going to throw up but not really? He tasted cherry. He pulls away and sees her pupils dilated. He smiles at her and blushes.

“Wanna try?” He shakes the slurpee tantalizingly in her direction. Veronica rolls her eyes playfully and takes it from his hand. 

She takes a long, drawn out sip like J.D. and swallows, seemingly unaffected. 

“I don’t really feel- OH SON OF A BITCH!” For the first time in a long time, J.D. laughs. 

J.D. startled heavily when a car horn beeps and Heather Chandler yelled Veronica’s name out the window. Veronica panicked, shoving the slurpee back into his hands and moved away but her eyes still sparkled from the moment. 

“Your friends are here.”

“I dont like my friends, hehe.. The parties are pretty cool though.”

“I take it youre going to one now?”

The chime rings again and Heather Chandler walks in and looked J.D. up and down, purses her black painted lips then chooses to ignore him, which he considered a favorable circumstance. “Veronica. Corn nuts?”

“Oh, yeah, um..” Veronica jumps down and grabs a few bags of barbeque corn nuts and pays for them. Heather immediately snatched them off the counter. 

“Good. Let’s fucking motor.” And Heather struts out of the 7/11, freeing him from the toxic perfume fumes and presence.

Veronica looks back at J.D. and he sighs, closing his eyes. “Go on, we’ll see each other again.” Veronica smiles bashfully and leaves the store. 

J.D. looked outside and noticed the setting sun. Anxiety welling up, he finished up the slurpee, threw it away then paid for it. He slowly made his way home, thinking about Veronica all the while. His first kiss, huh...? 

J.D. walked in the house and was immediately met by his father yanking him off the ground in the doorway.

“Where were you? Teachers said you weren’t in class today.”

“I was _ there _.” 

“Listen, punk, I don’t need you drawing attention to the Dean family.” 

“And yet you have a whole deconstruction company? Pretty sure that’s enough attention for the three of us. Mom’s probably getting a lot of shit upstairs.”

“You shut your fucking mouth.” His father slapped him across and the face. When J.D. didn’t respond, he let go of his collar and J.D. brushed himself off. 

“I’m going to my room.” J.D. muttered and walked past his father, up the stairs. He threw his bag on the floor and sat on his bed. His chest felt tight. He took off his shirt and relieved himself of his makeshift binder. He got a few moments of peace until he heard obnoxiously loud bass from the distance. He looked out his window and figured that was the homecoming party Veronica was at. He sighed. The voices were coming back. _ She was awfully nice, hm? Strange for someone to be kind to someone like you. _

J.D. rolled onto his side. _ Doesn’t it feel dangerous to be liking someone? Aren’t you worried? Aren’t you scared? Terrified? _

He tried to ignore them but instead they just grew louder in retaliation. He had to admit he _ was _ terrified. This was all too new for him and he didn’t know if he could handle it. He might just have to avoid her until she forgets he exists and then find someone else to like. To look at with those adorable, sparkling blue eyes… But why does it hurt to think about her liking someone else? It could be nice, maybe. Being her friend, even her partner? The word echoed in his head. He ached for someone to be close to… He ached for her presence, her comfort… His home, if home were good. He covered his face with his hands. Home… 

“Mom, what should I do?” 

He didn’t recall drifting off but he realized when he awoke with a start he had, indeed, fallen asleep. He looked at his clock and it was around 11:00. He sat up, wondering why he woke up. Then he heard a click behind him… His… window lock? He turned around just in time to see Veronica clambering in through the window and he was _ impressed? _

He jumped out of his bed. “Veronica.. What’re you… How??”

“I came t’ see you.” She’s slurring her words and her face is flushed. Oh God, she’s drunk. And she’s in his house. His _ room _. Is he still fucking dreaming? 

“You came to… Me, uh. Okay, uh... “

Veronica approached him and backed him into the wall, pushing her breasts on him. He turned his head away anxiously. He could practically see his father when he smelled the booze. He tried desperately to remind himself that Veronica’s just an innocent girl… Or, not as innocent as he thought. They just kissed a few hours ago and now… 

Veronica pressed her pelvis against his, shushing him even though he hadn’t said anything. He feels the hairs on his neck stand up. 

“Uhh… Veronica, I don’t think I can provide you with what you… want.”

“Whaddyu mean, Jason? You’re right here..” She moved her hand down to his- JESUS CHRIST.

J.D. pushed her away probably harder than he meant to. “Veronica, I’m not…” She looked at him, confused and maybe a little offended. “I’m not a guy, okay? I can’t, um..” As much as he hated himself for it, he started tearing up. He covered his mouth, trying to hide his shaking breaths. 

Veronica almost seemed to sober up in that moment, seeing him start to cry. She looked at him, knitting her eyebrows. “Hey, hey.. It’s okay! I came here cuz.. I want _ you _. I don’t care if you don’t have the equipment or whatever! I still like you! I always have!”

A tear fell down J.D.’s cheek and he watched her. Her genuineness was almost unnerving. “You do?” Veronica nodded vehemently. J.D. couldn’t help his eyes moving down to her lips again. “W-Well, um.. I like you too, Ronnie.” Shit, did he just say Ronnie?

Veronica blushed. “Did you call me Ronnie?”

“Mmm… Haha, maybe.”

“That is… so unbelievably cute.”

“Course. You’re cute.”

Veronica got very flustered at that and J.D. squealed internally. 

“So… If you’re still..” J.D. gestured to quite literally all of her and she smiled, biting her lip. She practically pounced onto him and they both fell onto the bed and Veronica took absolute control, which was, incredibly hot. She straddled him and made out with him, a bit sloppily but it was still nice. 

“Now… How ‘bout I take care of you?” 

“Ronnie, you don’t-”

“Shush! I wanna.” 

“O-okay then.” He smiled nervously and felt every part of his body tingling, including his groin. 

“Just so you know, I have NO experience whatsoever.” Veronica said as a sidenote while migrating her lipstick’d kisses down his body and started taking off his pants. 

J.D. laid his head down on his bed, allowing himself to relax. “That works for me. Neither’ve I.” He is _ so _ dead.


End file.
